"It's what we have to do to protect peace on Earth": Battle in Outer Space

We Call It Godzilla will be going on a brief hiatus while I deal with some life stuff, but will resume this summer as we head into the early sixties! In the meantime, enjoy this essay on the last Toho special effects production from the decade that spawned them.

Info

Also known as: The Great Space War (original Japanese); Satellite Wars (Argentina); Worlds at War (Brazil); The Interplanetary Battle (Belgium)

Director: Honda Ishiro. Screenplay: Sekizawa Shinichi, from a story by Okami Jojiro. Director of Special Effects: Tsuburaya Eiji. Composer: Ifukube Akira.

Running Time: 93 minutes

Release Date: December 26, 1959

What’s It About?

A battle in outer space. 

…More detail? Okay. In the then-near future, an alien race known as the Natarl destroys a manned communications satellite orbiting Earth before causing several disasters with their anti-gravitational absolute zero freeze ray. Despite the Natarl’s deployment of mind-controlled human saboteurs, the United Nations launches two manned rockets to the Moon in order to locate and destroy the Natarl’s hidden base there. Will humankind’s rockets be able to outmatch the invaders’ fearsome flying saucer armada, and will the heat rays the international scientific community has armed the astronauts with prove sufficient to defeat the alien threat?

Monster Appearances: None, technically. The only creatures in the film are the invading aliens, the diminutive, cackling Natarl, whose true form is hidden under their spacesuits. From the one scene they actually appear in, they seem like a bunch of goofballs.

Childhood Memories

This is another one I don’t see until well into adulthood, on April 24, 2019, shortly before the end of my college semester in Dublin (I must have been almost finished with my finals, or desperately procrastinating studying for them). It is, in fact, the last of Honda Ishiro’s special effects films that I haven’t seen, I think because it took me a while to find it in its proper widescreen form. In a very unpleasant coincidence, the end of the semester coincides with the passing of my uncle Chuck Mills, Aunt Boopy’s spouse, back in a hospital in America. It was at their apartment that I first watched films directed by Honda, way back in 2002.

In his youth, Uncle Chuck was a railroad employee and a proud union member. During my lifetime, he did carpentry and worked with the Torpedo Factory museum and art center by the waterfront in Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia. Whenever I stayed over at Aunt Boopy’s, he was there; one of my abiding childhood memories is of him playing solitaire on their boxy old desktop computer. He could be cantankerous, often bickering with Aunt Boopy over this or that, and generally provided the voice of reason to her indulgence of me. But his grumpy-old-man vibe fooled no one concerning what a thoughtful, loving man he was; he adored Boopy, and he adored me. In my early twenties, as my politics developed leftward from my parents’ and Boopy’s, I found it was Chuck who I could talk to most easily concerning my social and political frustrations. Even toward the end, after he’d had a lung removed and often took long pauses mid-conversation to formulate his thoughts, he remained sharp and lucid.  “You are a white man in America,” he told me once when we were discussing my future, and pointed out how many opportunities were open to me thanks to that circumstance of my existence; he was keenly aware, then, of our white male privilege, and the ongoing injustices in western society that make its existence possible. That isn’t an awareness that is handed to white men on a platter. For many, developing that awareness takes a willingness to work hard, an open mind, and a big heart. Chuck Mills had all three.

I don’t think Chuck would have liked Battle in Outer Space. He served during the Vietnam War, though in reserve, and - thank God - he thankfully never saw combat. But from experience, I believe he viewed fictionalized or fantastical depictions of warfare as a mockery of the horror of the real thing. Late at night in my dorm in Dublin, though, I enjoy Battle in Outer Space, far more than I am expecting based on its mixed reputation. Once I realize that the film is basically structured around its visual setpieces and little else, I adjust my expectations toward soaking in a prolonged extravaganza of exactly the sort of retro special effects I’ve loved since childhood, set to Ifukube Akira’s rousing tunes. I have a good time.

Analysis

As with The H-Man, Battle in Outer Space is not a true kaiju film. The only kaiju to turn up in a Toho production in 1959 was Tsuburaya Eiji’s rendition of Orochi, the legendary eight-headed dragon, for a single sequence in director Inagaki Hiroshi’s The Three Treasures. At just over three hours, The Three Treasures is a combined adaptation of famous Japanese creation myths, and sports an all-star ensemble cast. In addition to stalwart kaiju actors such as Shimura Takashi, Hirata Akihiko, and Takarada Akira (and a few others who would become associated with the films in short time), the epic-scale film features other Japanese screen legends including Hara Setsuko, Tanaka Kinuyo, Tono Eijiro, Nakamura Ganjiro II, and Mifune Toshiro in the lead role of mythical hero Yamato Takeru; this is the closest any of these prestigious actors came to appearing in a “proper” kaiju film. 

The Three Treasures follows a pattern of colorful mythological fantasy films that included Toho’s first color film, Toyoda Shiro’s Madame White Snake (1956), and fellow 1959 release Monkey Sun, an adaptation of the Chinese Monkey King story as directed by Honda Ishiro’s mentor Yamamoto Kajiro. While these fantasy films share some cast and crew with the line of science fiction films that originated with Gojira, including producer Tanaka Tomoyuki and Tsuburaya Eiji on special effects duty, in truth the two trends seem to have little direct creative influence on each other beyond allowing Tsuburaya’s team to further develop their craft. In The Three Treasures’ case, the film sports Tsuburaya’s first go at crafting a dragon-like creature and features a mixed-liquid technique during the opening creation sequence that would eventually be used to create the opening titles for Tsuburaya’s kaiju-themed Ultraman television franchise in the sixties. But in substance, The Three Treasures’ connection to the Godzilla-related films is thin, which is the excuse I’m using to avoid revisiting and writing up that lousy slog of a film.

No, of the two big special effects films that Toho released in 1959, it is Honda Ishiro’s kaiju-free Battle in Outer Space that actually furthers the evolution of the series. Battle does actually feature an oblique connection to one of the kaiju films proper, as three of its characters share names with those from The Mysterians, Toho’s previous alien invasion film. But the two lead characters to inherit the names are played by different actors, the third character that is played by a returning actor is a bit part, and anyways there is little that is specific to their characterization or the narrative at large to suggest a direct link between the films. 

That said, Battle is absolutely a follow-up to The Mysterians, in content and in spirit, with story author Okami Jojiro returning from that film to provide a not-dissimilar narrative. Structurally, Battle even follows the pattern of a sequel in expanding the scope of the story. Whereas the conflict in The Mysterians takes place entirely on Earth, Battle lives up to its title in staging most of the action set-pieces outside the planet’s atmosphere, either on the Moon or in transit toward it. The Tsuburaya team’s special effects are even more elaborate than in The Mysterians, previously their high-water mark. Though no single effect is quite as memorable or endearing as Moguera, the giant robot from that film, Battle’s array of outer space dogfights, moon battles, and climatic flying saucer attack on Earth are genuinely amazing, feeling far higher in production value than the chintzy reputation of classic tokusatsu visuals would suggest. A few of the model shots here aren’t just impressive for the time, they’re impressive now. Even some of the less realistic-looking creations, such as the moon all-terrain vehicles used by the astronauts or the Natarl moonbase, exude a lovely, retro-toylike vibe. Not to mention, Battle’s rotoscoped ray beam game is really solid. As is often noted concerning the film, there are shots here and there that absolutely seem to have influenced George Lucas while making Star Wars, particularly the X-Wing-like shots of the space fighter pilots in their cockpits during the final battle. My college self’s delight at the film’s visuals was more than warranted.

Alas, Battle in Outer Space also inherits some limitations from its predecessor. Even more than The Mysterians, Battle lives up to the stereotype concerning classic science fiction: there is practically no meaningful characterization or emotional content whatsoever to the film. Frankly, the one embarrassingly written and acted scene where leads Ikebe Ryo and Anzai Kyoko discuss their romance makes the absence of substantial human drama seem like no big loss for this particular movie. However, there’s no mistaking it: more than any previous Toho science fiction film, the vast majority of the human-centric scenes consist of meetings to provide exposition, meetings to discuss strategy, or transition points between the action beats. The main exception concerns the character of astronaut Iwamura, played by Tsuchiya Yoshio. Having gotten his wish to play an alien in The Mysterians, here Tsuchiya gets to fulfill his dream of playing a man possessed by aliens, as Iwamura is one of the two humans that the Natarl mind-control to be their puppets. Tsuchiya’s performance is lively, and at least some emotion is generated by his redemptive self-sacrifice at the conclusion of the moon sequence two thirds in, if only because the audience will miss the presence of an actor who seems passionate about what they’re doing.

With no emotional hooks for the viewer, Battle falls into much the same trap as The Mysterians: its conflict is ultimately simplistic. Battle is in fact far simpler than Mysterians, in ways both good and bad. The Natarl are ultimately a faceless, anonymous enemy with no motivation beyond conquest, without even the tragic dimension of the Mysterians. On the one hand, this means that the reactionary streak is much reduced from the 1957 film’s, as the Natarl are not depicted as disingenuous, scheming refugees the way that the Mysterians were. On the other, the lack of substance to the Natarl leaves the narrative spine without much in the way of apparent depth.

Once the surviving astronauts return to Earth after destroying the Natarl’s moonbase, we are treated to a montage of UN meetings and news conferences where the speakers discuss how the aggressive aliens must be fought. Subsequently, during the construction of a squadron of space fighters to combat the invaders’ final assault, head scientist Dr. Adachi (Senda Koreya) muses on how he’d never imagined that the vehicles would be used for combat, at which point his colleague solemnly reassures him that “It’s what we have to do to protect peace on Earth.” The effect feels similar to the dramatic techniques and rhetoric found in actual wartime propaganda films from any given country, with the Natarl being a mindlessly aggressive attacker that the United Nations is unequivocally justified in using any amount of force to defeat. The deeply conflicted, sorrowful approach to warfare in films like Gojira is found only in scant flashes here, soon buried by the next big action scene.

Then again…let’s rewind here, lest we miss the oddity on display: Battle in Outer Space comes off as a propaganda war film for the United Nations. This is deeply strange, given that propaganda films of the sort typically exist to drum up patriotic fervor for a specific nation against others. Science fiction war cinema is no stranger to that particular ideological bent either, a tendency Paul Verhoeven would later lampoon with his 1997 adaptation of Robert A. Heinlein’s novel Starship Troopers. Battle in Outer Space’s own appropriation and subversion of the wartime propaganda film is more straightforward, as the propaganda in this case is for the cause of every nation in the world uniting in a fight that affects all of them. As quoted by Guy Mariner Tucker, Honda Ishiro later reflected in 1991 that “we must really have the heart to love our brothers, despite the fact that from time to time there will be confrontations. If invaders from outer space really came to our world, we would all have to take one another’s hand at that instant and fight together.” Honda names that call for international unity as one of the key themes of his films. 

Battle in Outer Space puts real weight onto that internationalism. While the astronauts sent to the moon (in the goofily-named SPIP rockets) consist of Japanese and white American citizens, the coalition of UN representatives and scientists back on Earth is far more pointedly varied than in The Mysterians. It isn’t just that the USA and USSR are both at the conference table once again. Former colonial powers such as India and the Philippines (the latter of which was occupied by Japan in WWII) are given the spotlight during meeting scenes as well. China’s presence is also telling; in their commentary track for Battle on the 2009 Icons of Toho Sci-Fi DVD set, Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski point out how significant it is that China, a country with bitter feelings toward Japan, is also given the spotlight. Honda puts effort toward giving what had been marginalized and exploited populations a voice at the table, including former victims of Japanese expansionism; this considered inclusivity is miles from the USA-led or Eurocentric approach in most western alien invasion films of the time. (Though it must be said, the fact that the first brainwashed agent that the Natarl deploy is an Iranian scientist has aged…interestingly.) With the added backdrop of a less outwardly reactionary depiction of an alien menace than its predecessor, Battle in Outer Space’s thorough internationalism becomes one of the most explicit statements yet of Honda’s humanist idealism.

This is the real human drama of Battle in Outer Space: how will the people of the world, having put aside their differences, come up with a way to defeat their common enemy? We’ll talk about why, exactly, the conflict takes place in such depersonalized and unemotional terms when we get to Toho’s next outer space film in 1962, where we’ll talk about the series’ wider relationship with science fiction in general. For now, it’s enough to note that however alienating its presentation might be from a satisfying dramatic perspective, a human heart and soul does exist in Battle in Outer Space.

And this is an important thing to note, as Toho’s science fiction films exit the decade that birthed them. In films like The Mysterians, Varan, and Battle in Outer Space, the human characters have been increasingly secondary to the special effects. (Indeed, this foreshadows the arc of Honda Ishiro’s own career: 1959 was the last year that Honda directed more human dramas than science fiction pictures, as had been the norm for him throughout the fifties. From 1960 until his last directorial credit in 1975, the total number of non-special effects films Toho assigned to Honda was a grand total of two). Most Japanese critics at the time had already turned on Toho’s science fiction films as juvenile spectacle increasingly dependent on Tsuburaya’s visuals over compelling drama. That’s a hard criticism to refute in the case of Battle in Outer Space, but I think Battle demonstrates that the inverse point is also true, a point that will be essential to Toho’s science fiction series as it continues into the sixties and beyond: even at their at their schlockiest and most dedicated to pure spectacle, these films have a heart.

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